


I've been alone with you inside my mind

by fairychangeling



Category: IT (Movies - Muschietti), IT - Stephen King
Genre: Abusive Myra Kaspbrak, Bottom Eddie Kaspbrak, Cheating, Closeted Character, Drunk Sex, Eddie Kaspbrak Cheats on Myra Kaspbrak, Explicit Sexual Content, Extramarital Affairs, Gay Eddie Kaspbrak, Implied/Referenced Underage Sex, M/M, Past Relationship(s), Pre-IT Chapter Two (2019), Repressed Eddie Kaspbrak, Repressed Memories, Richie Tozier is Not Heterosexual, Top Richie Tozier
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-06
Updated: 2020-10-06
Packaged: 2021-03-07 20:35:21
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,264
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26863756
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fairychangeling/pseuds/fairychangeling
Summary: Richie Tozier is Eddie's favourite comedian.Of course he'd get a ticket to see Richie's show when he comes to New York.**They can't remember, but they still find each other.
Relationships: Eddie Kaspbrak/Richie Tozier
Comments: 20
Kudos: 244





	I've been alone with you inside my mind

**Author's Note:**

> I really wanted to write something were Eddie liked Richie's comedy, so this was born.
> 
> Please be aware that this story involved Eddie and Richie having an affair, and there is mention of Eddie having considered an affair with another man in his office.

Richie Tozier was the funniest man alive.

As far as Eddie was concerned, that was a fact.

No one else seemed to share his point of view. 

Myra hated the man. 

“He’s not funny, Eddie,” she’d say. “All his jokes are about hating your wife.”

_ Yes _ , Eddie thought.  _ They were _ .

His boss, when Eddie had mentioned his favorite comedian in passing, had raised an eyebrow and said “A bit lowbrow for you, isn’t it, Kaspbrak?”

They just didn’t understand. 

So when Richie’s official twitter account posted dates for the  _ Richie Tozier World Tour (New York Only) _ , Eddie bought himself a ticket.

Myra would be so angry that he’d wasted his money.

It was only $74, hardly noticeable from his paycheck but he knew she’d see. 

She went through their joint bank account, scouring their statement for any unauthorised purchases. She’d be livid when the charge came through.

Eddie didn’t care. He needed this. 

He’d deal with the yelling and the tears when they came. 

Missing this opportunity would be worse than anything Myra could throw at him.

**

“And then..and then he said…” 

“Look man, I’m gonna have to cut you off. We’re about to close,” the bartender said.

Eddie frowned. He dug in his pocket, pulling out his wallet and shoved a twenty dollar bill at the man.

“Look, I’m paying you to listen to me,” he said, narrowing his eyes. “And I want to tell you Richie Tozier jokes!”

The show had been amazing, just like Eddie had known it would be.

He’d laughed so hard he thought he’d be sick and now his jaw ached from how wide he was smiling. 

He’d run out in the interval, down to the lobby and brought every bit of merchandise they were selling related to Richie Tozier.

He had the t-shirt, pulled on over his own Tom Ford slim fit alpaca wool sweater, and the baseball cap which he’d jammed on his head. He had the coffee mug, the key chain, the tour poster, the tote bag to put it all in. He’d spent nearly $300 dollars and he felt nothing but happy. 

Now he was in the theater bar, on his third drink, unwilling to go home just yet. 

He was recounting the highlights and everything had been a highlight as far as Eddie was concerned.

The bartender didn’t seem to agree. 

He pushed the twenty back across the bar.

“Go home, man,” he said. “We’re closing.”

“No!” Eddie whined. “No! I don’t want to go home yet.” 

The bartender ignored him, beginning to wipe down the bar. 

Eddie sucked in a deep breath. 

“Ok, and then he said…”

“Please just go home,” the man sighed.

“But he was so good! You just need to hear this one joke and then I’ll go, I promise!”

“No, no more jokes,” the bartender said, shaking his head. “I fucking hate that guy.”

Eddie gasped in horror. 

“Are you kidding me? He’s brilliant! A fucking genius.” 

“He’s a hack!”

“I am going to write a complaint,” Eddie muttered. “I’m a paying customer. I’m going to tell your manager that you were rude to me and that you insulted world-famous comedian Richie Tozier!”

“I have told you three times that we’re closing. You’re the only one here now apart from me,” the bartender said. “So, as far as I’m concerned, my shift ended ten minutes ago and I’m free to tell you that Tozier is a hack!”

Eddie scrunched his face up, feeling a protective wave rise within him. 

He opened his mouth to argue. 

“Wow, tell me how you really feel,” said a voice from behind him.

Eddie swiveled on his stool, his eyes widening in amazement. 

Richie Tozier was here, standing in front of Eddie.

“Oh, thank fuck,” said the bartender behind him. “Come and pick up your number one fan, Richie, and get him out of here.”

“Never seen him before in my life,” Richie laughed, his eyes darting to Eddie. He held his hand out for Eddie to shake. “But it’s always nice to meet a fan.”

Eddie took his hand, marvelling at just how large it was, how completely it covered his own.

“I’m Eddie Kaspbrak and I spent $374 to come see you tonight,” he said. 

“You got scalped, dude,” Richie said.

He hadn’t let go of Eddie’s hand. 

“Look, I am closing up,” the bartender said. 

“Right, right,” Richie muttered. “Come on, Eddie Kaspbrak. I think you’re drunk.”

Eddie slid off his stool and into Richie. He staggered and came to a stop, pressed up against the larger man. He was so warm, so solid. 

Eddie peered up at him, wondering when Richie had got so tall. 

“I don’t want to go home,” Eddie whispered sadly. 

Going home meant coming down from this high. Going home meant Myra. It meant Eddie having to hide all the things he’d bought because she’d be so angry with him, so unhappy that Eddie had this one thing in his life that brought him joy. 

Going home meant leaving Richie. 

He clutched at Richie, his heart beating so fast he was sure the other man could hear it. 

He didn’t want to leave Richie. Didn’t want Myra to shut him up in that lonely house, unable to go outside and unable to see Richie. 

“I think you need some coffee,” Richie said. 

“We are closed,” the bartender said. 

Richie shrugged, hauling Eddie a little closer to him as if he was afraid Eddie would fall over on his own. 

“Wanna come back to mine?” he asked. “I have room service.”

  
  


**

Richie’s hotel room was fucking huge. 

“So, what do you want?” Richie asked, throwing the room service menu at him. “Anything you like, go crazy.”

“I’m not allowed to eat this stuff,” Eddie said, wrinkling his nose as he looked down at the list. He blinked a few times, trying to focus on the text. “Hamburgers, Hotdogs. Do you know what the FDA allows in a hotdog? Fuck, I want a hotdog.”

Richie laughed, picking up the corded phone by the bed.

“Ok, I’m gonna get some stuff for me too,” he said.

Eddie nodded, falling down face first onto the bed, half listening as Richie put in their order - fries, two hotdogs and cocktails. 

He shifted as Richie put the phone down, looking up at him sheepishly. 

Richie only grinned at him.

“So, who doesn’t let you have hotdogs?” he asked.

Eddie groaned, shoving his face back into the duvet.

“My wife,” he muttered. 

“You have a wife?” Richie whistled low. “Ok, no offense, but I wouldn’t have imagined you with a wife.”

“You don’t know me,” Eddie said, rolling onto his back so he could look at Richie. “I have a wife and I’m fucking miserable with her.”

“Figures,” Richie said.

“What about you? Don’t you have a girlfriend?” Eddie asked. 

Richie didn’t meet his eye.

“Not right now,” he said. “I mean, you heard my stuff. Do you think any self-respecting woman would want to put up with me?”

“My wife hates you,” Eddie said. “She won’t let me watch your stuff in the house. I have to watch it at work, on my laptop.”

“That’s rough.”

“Yeah. Sometimes I tell her I’m working late and I just watch your old stuff,” Eddie said. 

“Your boss must love that,” Richie said.

His eyes looked darker, his gaze skimming up and down the length of Eddie’s body.

“I think my boss wants to fuck me,” Eddie said abruptly, pushing himself up on his elbows.

Richie didn’t seem phased by the assertion.

“What makes you think that?” he asked.

“We made out in his office at the Christmas Party,” Eddie said.

Richie’s eyes grew wide and then he hooted with laughter.

“Look at you! You sly little thing. Having an affair with the boss. You gonna get that promotion on your knees, Kaspbrak?” 

Eddie groaned, shaking his head.

“No!”

“I’m not judging you,” Richie said, holding his hands up in front of his chest in mock-surrender. “I think it’s hot.” 

“You do?”

Richie nodded.

“Yeah. I think you’re hot too.”

Eddie flushed. 

“It doesn’t weird you out?” he asked quietly. “That I’m thinking about having an affair with my boss?” 

Richie shuffled closer on the bed.

“Nah. I’m relieved,” he said. “You’re too cute to be straight.” 

Eddie wiggled so they were touching, his arm pressed against Richie’s thigh. 

“Is that why you brought me back to your hotel room? Because I’m cute?”

“Yeah,” Richie said, his voice low and Eddie’s dick twitched in response.

He wondered if he had some latent gaydar; if he’d known somehow that Richie was as repressed and unhappy and needy as he was. 

It had never crossed Eddie’s mind that Richie wouldn’t be straight, but now that Richie was flirting with him it seemed the most obvious thing in the world. 

They were drawn to each other because they were the same. 

That was why Eddie loved Richie’s comedy even though no one else around him thought Richie was funny. That was why he hadn’t been able to leave the theater after Richie’s show ended, why he was here now in Richie’s bed. 

This was something they both needed. 

Richie leaned down towards him. Eddie closed his eyes and licked his lips, waiting for the kiss he knew was coming. 

There was a knock on the door. 

Their room service had arrived. 

Reluctantly, Richie rose from the bed. 

He opened the door, retrieving their order and tipping the bellboy before he kicked the door shut again.

“For Monsieur,” he said, affecting a terrible french accent.

Eddie giggled. 

Richie set the tray down on the bed, settling himself on the other side of it.

“I don’t know about you, but I’m starving,” he said, but it didn’t seem to be just the food he was talking about. 

Eddie nodded. 

He hadn’t realised how hungry he was until now, with the smell of freshly cooked food wafting between them and Richie sitting there, looking like he wanted to devour Eddie whole. 

He grabbed his hotdog, taking a bite. 

Myra never let him eat things like this. They weren’t good for him. They’d mess with his sodium levels, his colesterol. He’d probably be sick for days after eating this. 

She made him healthy meals in calorie controlled portions, but no salt and no spices in case it upset his delicate stomach. He hadn’t even looked at the allergy recommendations on the menu. 

Eddie finished his hotdog in three bites.

“Hey, have a drink,” Richie said, gesturing to the two cocktails on the tray. They were both bright blue, in a tall glass with a straw and umbrella.

Eddie grabbed one immediately. 

“I’m not supposed to drink cocktails,” he said, twirling the straw. “Girly drinks.”

“Who told you that?” Richie asked, grabbing the other drink. He ignored the straw in favour of gulping a mouthful from the side of the glass. 

“My wife.”

“Yeah, well, she must have realised what a slut you turn into with a few drinks down you,” Richie said, waggling his eyebrows up and down. “Might have realised you’d jump any guy around.”

Eddie laughed.

He caught the straw between his lips and sucked, getting his first mouthful of the cocktail. 

It was sugary, entirely too pleasant and he was certain more alcoholic than it tasted. 

Glancing at Richie, Eddie noticed the man was watching his mouth. 

Eddie let the straw slip from between his lips. 

  
Richie’s eyes didn’t stray. 

“I want to suck your dick,” Eddie said. 

“Yeah?” Richie said. “I was hoping you’d say that.”

“But I want you to fuck me too,” Eddie said, frowning.

“I could do both,” Richie offered. 

“Kind of want you to come in my mouth,” Eddie said, his frown deepening. “But I’m not letting you fuck my ass and then my mouth. That’s so unsanitary.”

Richie closed the space between them, brushing their lips together.

He tasted like the cocktail he’d been drinking and Eddie was instantly addicted to the sugary taste of him. 

“You’re a fucking dream, do you know that, Eds?” 

“Eds?” Eddie mumbled. “I like that.” 

“Really? Because I’ve been itching to call you that all night,” Richie said. “Or Eddie Spaghetti, but I didn’t think you’d suck my dick if I called you that.”

“You were right. You’ve killed the mood. I’m not a slut anymore,” Eddie deadpanned. 

Richie hooted with laughter again.

It made Eddie’s chest feel tight when Richie laughed, but not in the way he was used to. He didn’t feel frightened or panicky. He felt warm and happy, filled with a fondness that made him ache. 

He’d done that. He’d made Richie laugh. 

It was the most beautiful sound and he was the one who’d caused it. 

Richie laughed all the time. It shouldn’t have felt like such a huge accomplishment, but it did. 

It made Eddie feel special. 

“So, do you make a habit out of picking up guys after your shows?” 

“Sometimes,” Richie said. “When they’re cute, like you.” 

“I’m going to let you do awful things to me,” Eddie said, setting his drink down on the bedside table. 

Richie stood up suddenly, struggling to pull his shirt over his head. Eddie watched, completely enrapt. There was nothing sensual in Richie’s movements. He wasn’t trying to be titerlating. There was just a bone deep craving to get naked and pressed against Eddie, one that Eddie could appreciate. 

“Are you going to get naked or am I fucking you while you wear my t-shirt?” Richie asked. 

Desire coursed through Eddie, white hot and sticky. 

He scrambled off the bed, pulling off the offending t-shirt and his sweater. He unzipped, shimming his pants down while Richie grabbed the tray off the bed, moving it somewhere it wouldn’t be in the way. 

They hadn’t even touched the fries and Richie had only eaten half of his hotdog. 

Vaguely, Eddie thought he heard his phone ring, but he ignored it. 

Richie was down to just his boxers now, palming himself through the fabric. 

“On your knees,” he said and Eddie went willingly, shuffling across the carpet until he was kneeling in front of him. 

His mouth watered as he peeled down Richie’s underwear, hit by the musky scent of him and the sight of his thick long cock springing free. 

Eddie wrapped his hand around Richie’s length, his touch feather-light, just wanting to feel the heat of him. 

This was the kind of cock Eddie dreamed about sucking. 

“You just browsing or are you going to buy?” Richie hissed, one of his big hands coming to cradle the back of Eddie’s head, pushing him forwards.

Eddie opened his mouth, letting Richie guide him.

He didn’t have a lot of experience in this department. He had dreams, feverish things where he imagined himself and another man humping against each other with the desperation of teenagers and he had the odd thing with his boss, but he didn’t think he’d ever sucked another guy off before. 

It felt natural to go slack and let Richie use him, to look up at him as he felt the head of Richie’s cock bump the back of his throat. 

“Fuck,” Richie swore. “Fuck, just keep looking at me baby. Yeah, you’ve got the prettiest eyes.” 

Eddie felt tears prickling in the corners of his eyes but he didn’t look away. 

“I wanna ruin you,” Richie huffed, beginning to drag his hips slowly back and forth, pushing his cock deeper into Eddie’s mouth with each movement. 

_ I’d let you, _ Eddie thought hopelessly,  _ I’d let you and then I’d come back for more.  _

He was being so reckless. 

They weren’t using a condom. He hadn’t even asked Richie about using one. He hadn’t asked Richie about testing or sexual history or anything sensible.

Eddie was gonna have to go to the doctor after this and get a full battery of tests run. 

How would he ever explain it to Myra if he caught an STD from a one-night-stand?

Just the thought of it made Eddie feel dirty and he shivered, hating how his cock throbbed and twitched every time that word crossed his mind. 

His mother had never wanted him to be dirty. She’d always been so scared about Eddie, so worried he’d get sick. 

There’d been another boy. A friend of his. Eddie had loved him so fiercely he couldn’t breathe sometimes when he looked at him, only now he couldn’t remember what he looked like. 

That boy had been dirty. 

His mother had always worried that boy would make Eddie dirty too and she’d said it in such a way that Eddie knew she didn’t mean muddy or dusty or any of the other ways little boys got dirty. 

She’d meant that boy would reach into Eddie’s chest, wrap his fingers around Eddie’s heart and never let go. He’d corrupt Eddie from the inside out. 

“Eddie? Baby?” Richie’s voice was soft, bringing him back to the hotel room and the carpet under his knees, to the weight of the cock in his mouth. 

Richie stroked his fingers across Eddie’s cheek and Eddie realised he’d been crying. 

He sat back on his heels, letting Richie’s cock slip from his mouth with a wet ‘pop’. 

“Sorry,” he said, wondering when his voice had got so raspy. “I just got...this is the first time I’ve ever done this. I’ve wanted to do it before, so many times, but I’ve never let myself.”

“It’s ok,” Richie said, helping him up off the floor and towards the bed. “If it’s too much for you, we don’t have to do anything else.”

“But I want to!” Eddie said firmly. 

Richie reached out, brushing Eddie’s hair away from his face.

He looked at Eddie like he loved him.

“Brave boy,” he said and Eddie melted against him. 

They arranged themselves carefully on the bed, Richie tugging down Eddie’s briefs and slotting their cocks together, wrapping his hand around both of them and using the slick wet spit from Eddie’s mouth to jerk them off.

“Fuck me,” Eddie whined. 

“You ever had something in you?” Richie hissed, twisting his wrist in a way that had Eddie seeing stars.

Behind those stars he saw himself, sweet sixteen, in his childhood bedroom, biting down on his pillow to muffle the noises he was making.

He was getting fucked by that boy, the dirty boy who Eddie knew was going to come inside him and leave him feeling wet and raw. 

“Yeah,” he said. 

Richie raised an eyebrow, but Eddie didn’t elaborate further. He was breathing heavily, reliving the feeling of being young and dumb, humping into his mattress while the other boy filled him up, knowing his mother was just downstairs, asleep in front of the the TV. 

She’d have killed them both if she’d ever caught them. 

“Ok,” Richie muttered. “Ok.”

He pulled away, ignoring Eddie’s whine, and rolled off the bed again. He padded about the room, searching for his suitcase. 

A moment later he was back, a little tube of lubricant in his grip. 

“Roll over,” he said and Eddie did, turning onto his front and spreading his legs. 

He heard the little intake of breath behind him and grinned, drunk on the sensation of Richie watching him, desiring him. 

He felt the bed dip as Richie joined him and felt the heat of him as Richie hovered over him.

It was a sharp contrast to the coolness of Richie’s fingers, wet with lubricant, when they pressed against him, rubbing distractingly across his hole.

Eddie did this to himself sometimes, when he was showering, and the pressure had built up inside him and he just needed a release. He jerked himself off with one hand and fingered his hole with the other. It always made him come harder than just jerking off alone. 

Richie’s fingers were better than his own - longer, thicker, reaching deeper inside him than Eddie had ever managed on his own. 

Richie leant across him, pressing kisses to Eddie’s shoulders as he fingered him open. He had three fingers in him, rocking them in and out of Eddie with a gentle, easy rhythm that spoke of experience. He knew what Eddie needed, knew how to open him up and Eddie relaxed into the sheets, happy to let Richie guide him. 

“You feeling good?” Richie asked.

Eddie hummed happily, turning his head to the side so Richie could kiss his mouth again. 

“Yeah, feels good,” he said.

“I’m gonna fuck you now. You tell me if anything changes,” Richie said.

Eddie’s heart fluttered.

He lay still as Richie slipped his fingers out, his hole clenching around nothing as he heard Richie moving behind him. 

Then Richie was over him, covering Eddie’s body with his own, settling his weight down on top of Eddie. 

Eddie moaned, high and shameless. 

He’d always hated how short he was. It had made him feel weaker, less manly, but with Richie laid out on top of him, he loved the difference in their sizes, loved how safe he felt under Richie. 

Richie slipped a hand in between them, guiding his cock to press against Eddie’s hole. He rubbed it back and forth, teasing Eddie with little movements, pressing in just a little and then pulling back. 

“Please,” Eddie groaned.

He was rewarded with the firm press of Richie’s cock into him, slow and steady, the head pushing past the initial reluctance of his body, popping inside him.

“You’re so fucking tight,” Richie said, digging his free hand into Eddie’s hip. 

“I haven’t been fucked since I was a teenager,” Eddie said.

Richie laughed and Eddie felt himself relaxing, letting Richie slide further into him. 

“So, what you’re saying is I’m fucking a born again virgin?” Richie asked, his hot breath coming out wetly against the back of Eddie’s neck. 

“Does that turn you on?” Eddie asked. “Imagining you’re taking my virginity?”

Richie’s hips stuttered, pressing his cock deeper into Eddie. 

It was rough, a little too much too soon, but in a moment Richie’s hand was stroking the small of his back, helping Eddie to relax again, helping him to accept the heavy fullness settling inside him. 

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to…” Richie huffed out another laugh. “I guess it does turn me. I never thought I had a virginity kink!” 

Eddie folded his arms and settled his head on them, taking a moment to relish the feeling of Richie above him and inside him. 

His own cock was a dull ache between his legs - hard and persistent, but nowhere near as exciting as what Richie was doing, even when all he was doing was holding still and letting Eddie adjust to the sensation of having another man’s cock inside him. 

He felt strange, open and vulnerable in a way he knew he’d been before even if he couldn’t quite remember it. His body knew though. It remembered and it liked this feeling. 

Eddie began to rock his hips, pressing back against Richie, who took that as the invitation it was and began to move. He was surprisingly gentle, his strokes slow but certain, taking his time and listening to Eddie’s hitched breaths and little moans, pausing when he thought he might have gone too far. 

It was strangely at odds with his public persona. 

The man who made a living telling jokes about his terrible sex life, who proudly called himself ‘Trashmouth’ and had been banned from one talk show for life after making a V sign with his fingers and waggling his tongue between them, pretending he was eating pussy, turned out to be the most attentive, generous lover in bed. 

Affairs weren’t meant to be slow, sensual things. They weren’t supposed to feel like making love. 

Sex with Richie wasn’t anything like the jackhammering fuckfest Eddie had imagined.

It was so much better. 

“You’re beautiful,” Richie murmured, pressing a kiss to the spot between Eddie’s shoulder blade. “You’re so fucking beautiful, Eddie.”

“Richie,” Eddie said, his voice low and breathless, coming before he’d really registered that was what he was doing. 

He clenched up tight and Richie moaned loudly in his ear, his hips pushing forward - once, twice - before he was burying himself in Eddie, coming wet and deep.

**

Eddie woke up to his phone ringing. 

He cursed, rolling out of bed and hunted around in his discarded trousers for the stupid thing. He already knew who’d be calling him. 

When he found it, the display showed Myra’s name.

Eddie thought he might be sick.

“Hey, you up? Who’s calling?” Richie mumbled from the bed.

Eddie slammed the phone to his chest and bolted for the hotel bathroom. He locked the door, leaning against it, and answered his wife’s call with trembling fingers.

“Eddie?” Myra’s voice filled the room in an anguished wail. “Why didn’t you pick up? I’ve been calling you all night! I was about to call the police! I thought you’d been attacked or mugged! I thought you must be in the hospital!”

Eddie closed his eyes.

He could feel Richie’s come dripping down the inside of his thighs. 

“Myra, I’m sorry,” he said, his voice hardly more than a whisper. “I had a few drinks last night and I didn’t think it was safe to drive. I booked into a hotel to sleep it off. I’m sorry, I didn’t think…”

“Eddie! The expense! You should have called me, or got a uber home!”

“Myra, you don’t like me using uber. You said they don’t vet their drivers properly!”

“They don’t!” she said. “But then you would have been home and I would have known you were safe! Oh Eddie, I haven’t been able to sleep!”

“I’m fine,” Eddie gasped, the words hurtling out of him. “Myra, please, don’t cry. I’m fine. I’ll be home in a few hours. I just need some coffee.”

“You should never have gone out to that awful man’s show!”

Eddie opened his eyes, frowning at the phone and muted the conversation. He let Myra rant while he ran the water, filling the sink, and considered for a moment drowning his phone or himself. Instead, he splashed his face with cold water. 

It helped, a little bit. 

Eddie regarded his reflection in the mirror, looking himself over with something akin to pride.

He had hickies on his throat and shoulders. He hadn’t had hickies since he was a teenager. 

There was a knock on the bathroom door.

“Look, I get you’re kind of having a moment in there, but do you think I could use the bathroom?” 

“Oh, uh, yeah,” Eddie said, fumbling for the door.

Richie somehow even looked handsome after stumbling out of bed. He grinned at Eddie, slapping him on the ass as they passed, and Eddie retreated back into the relative safety of the hotel bed while Richie took the bathroom.

Myra was coming to the end of her rant now. Eddie could tell. He unmuted himself. 

“Myra, I’ll be home soon,” he said. “We can talk then?” 

“Fine,” Myra said with a sniff. “But we are going to talk, Eddie. I’m not happy with you spending our money like this.”

The call ended and Eddie dropped his phone off the bed. He pulled the covers up, over his head and didn’t move until Richie prodded him, sliding into bed behind him. 

“Your wife sounds like a peach,” he said.

Eddie rolled the blanket down enough so he could look at him.

“I’m so stupid,” he said. “I just couldn’t go home to her last night.”

“And you didn’t!” Richie said triumphantly. “Instead, we both had an excellent night of no-strings-attached sex.”

“It was pretty good,” Eddie admitted grudgingly. 

Richie wrapped an arm around him, pulling him close and Eddie let him, allowing himself to sink back against Richie.

It felt so right to be in his arms. It felt better than anything in Eddie’s life up to that point. 

“Can I keep you?” Richie asked, pressing a kiss to his damp hair.

“I don’t know,” Eddie muttered. “I mean, I’m married.”

“Yeah, doesn’t bother me,” Richie said. “And I’m way better affair material than your boss.”

Eddie snorted.

“I mean, it’s not like I’m expecting you to leave your wife or move to LA with me or anything,” Richie said. “I just think we could hook up when I’m in town, maybe sext each other.”

Eddie pretended to think about it.

He shouldn’t. The sex had been amazing, spending time with Richie was amazing, but Eddie couldn’t commit to anything. 

He shouldn’t be entertaining the idea of an affair with Richie. 

He was married and Richie was famous.

They both had so much to lose if someone found out.

The sensible thing was just to accept this for what it was - a night of passion the likes of which Eddie couldn’t remember knowing before - and go their separate ways. 

It made his heart ache to think about letting Richie go. 

“Myra reads my texts,” he said. “She’s kind of paranoid about me.”

“With good reason,” Richie said, running a hand along Eddie’s side. “I mean, look at you. One night away from her and you’ve fucked a celebrity.”

Eddie laughed.

He felt he should be ashamed, but Richie had a way of making him feel at ease with everything he’d done, of making him want to do it all again. 

Eddie felt as if he’d known him his whole life. 

“Anyway,” Richie continued. “Leave the phone thing to me, I’ll sort it out. Just give me your office address.”

“Ok,” Eddie agreed. 

“So, that’s yes to being my side piece? I feel blessed. Hold on a moment, I’m just gonna tweet that. Just - hashtag blessed and no one else will know it’s because you’ve decided to officially worship my dick.”

Eddie hit him with a pillow. 

**

The package arrived a day later.

It was held at reception and Eddie was called down to collect it. 

He carried the box back to his office, his heart hammering in his chest. 

Eddie never had mail delivered to the office unless it was work related.

When he reached his office, he shut and locked the door, sitting down at his desk with the box in front of him.

It was nondescript, wrapped in brown parcel paper with a printed packaging label on it. 

There was nothing incriminating about it, but somehow Eddie knew.

He ripped off the paper and opened the box, grinning when he saw what it contained.

It was a brand new prepaid phone, inexpensive and designed to be thrown away. 

It shouldn’t have thrilled Eddie as much as it did.

There was also a card inside the box. 

It was a birthday card with a picture of a cake and some candles on the front, but someone had crossed out the birthday part of the message and written “Happy Affair!” across it instead. 

Eddie opened the card, smiling to himself.

‘ _ Eds,  _

_ She won’t know anything about this phone.  _

_ Wishing you were here (on my dick) _

_ -Richie _ ’

The phone had only one number programmed into it. 

Eddie dialled it and waited. It rang three times before it was picked up.

“Hello, you’ve reached the Richie Tozier sex-line. Please start by describing what you’re wearing and what you’d like me to do to you in graphic detail.” 

“I got the phone,” Eddie said. 

“Yeah?” Richie was smiling, Eddie could hear it in his voice. 

“Mmmhmm, and I’m currently wearing my dove grey suit. I think you’d like it. It shows off my ass.” 

**Author's Note:**

> Please picture them meeting back in Derry:
> 
> Richie: You were my first gay experience!  
> Eddie: You're still my only gay experience!  
> Ben: I'm really happy for you guys. Do you think the spring rolls are good? I'm gonna get some spring rolls.


End file.
